©LeisaHammett.com.Leaves.Spring15.

It is possible to be physically present in nature but not be present in the one “Now” moment that nature encourages. I recall the time I walked the length of Radnor Lake, and only at the end did I realize I’d not been present in the beauty surrounding me. Instead, I was mentally cramped in the jungle of my thoughts, which were contorted in breakup misery. One sees the lack of presence in nature frequently. Two walkers whose chatter pierces the silence of the forest for seemingly miles. Runners with headphones blaring. I know: walks provide time to exercise and catch up with friends. Music helps runners keep their pace….

I forever reference the quote I read a dozen years ago in a yoga publication about how it is difficult to not be present, in the Now, when walking in nature.

Perhaps for you, like me, nature is a balm to the inner spirit. In the last year, I’ve learned a walk in the woods or a stroll in sunshine almost instantly redirects and smooths my disjointed thoughts, giving me needed perspective.

Today was one of those walks. The minute I headed onto the trail, the message came to me to be present. My third chakkra, the ego-power-hunger center at the top of my abdomen, began to loosen. I had thrown my thoughts into drama. The drama of a nonreality. The unborn future. In life, the reality is that we just have this one now moment. All we can do is decide in this one now what is the next best step for the next moment.

As I stepped as far as I had time to go, I looked over the railing down at the dark green river. Young, chartruese, leaves, early messengers of spring, floated by, quickly, submerged. I looked up at the trees, backdropped by a cloud-free blue sky. The trees had born such leaves that had fallen through that sky.

Nature is not worried about tomorrow. Nature just is. Showing up. Going through day, night and then day again. Moment by moment. What we forget is that we are made up of and are one with this same nature.